


wide-eyed, like we're in a crime scene

by theyarenotfree



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: !!!, Crime Scenes, Crimes & Criminals, Cuddling & Snuggling, Cute, Detectives, Fluff, M/M, Minor Character Death, Missing Persons, Police, Sleepy Cuddles, bit of angst i guess, description of a dead body but its very vague
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-15
Updated: 2015-06-15
Packaged: 2018-04-04 11:59:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4136652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theyarenotfree/pseuds/theyarenotfree
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>“it’s been nearly nine months of working at the doncaster police headquarters. nine months of blushing and flushing and overall crushing, and harry still finds himself amazed by the mere existence of the older man.”</em>
</p><p> </p><p>harry is a stressed out missing persons investigator. louis is the homicide detective who helps him relax.</p>
            </blockquote>





	wide-eyed, like we're in a crime scene

**Author's Note:**

> hii heres a lil self indulgent story.
> 
> i based most of this off of a show called see no evil, which follows detectives who retell the story of a time they used video footage to help solve crimes & catch criminals. it's very good, you should check it out if it sounds interesting to you!
> 
> title is from the song candles by daughter, hope you enjoy! x

harry is having the worst day of his entire life.

not only is he functioning off of three hours of sleep and a few dozen cups of coffee (thanks to liam for making him stay late at the precinct last night), but he also has an enormous stain on his button up and an agreeably bad hair day.

niall has his feet propped up on his desk, jaw working furiously on a mouthful of jelly beans. justin bieber is playing softly from his computer and harry can see the beginning of some eccentric music video all the way from his own desk, next to niall’s.

harry knows that niall is his partner and he shouldn’t take out all his frustration on the poor irish kid, but he really wishes liam would come out and tell him to stop messing around. or at least tell them that there’s a new case to start working on.

being a missing persons investigator is really only exciting when there’s a missing person.

harry is just typing up the final words for his last case report when he hears the coffee machine beep. he stands abruptly, chair spinning in circles behind him while he runs to the break room as if his life depends on the promise of caffeine. he hesitates when he notices another figure by the coffee machine—hesitates even more when he sees that it’s louis. after taking a deep breath and pointedly ignoring the way louis’ fitted slacks hug his arse perfectly, harry tiptoes up to the counter and grabs himself a mug.

it’s been nearly nine months of working at the doncaster police headquarters. nine months of blushing and flushing and overall crushing, and harry still finds himself amazed by the mere existence of the older man. louis was promoted to the homicide unit about a month after harry was hired, and though they don’t work together, they have the same boss and are based in the same precinct and harry falls into the same pattern of attempting a conversation, embarrassing himself and then avoiding louis for a week. it’s a problem, really.

harry can tell the exact moment louis notices him, can feel the way his eyes linger before he moves to the side to let harry pour his own coffee. harry keeps his head down, but then he manages to see how small louis’ little feet look compared to his, and he almost drops the coffee pot. _honestly._

louis doesn’t add anything to his coffee. he drinks it black while he watches harry tear open sugar packets.

“styles,” he says softly, amusement laced in his voice. harry risks a quick glace at louis’ face, and sees a small smile tugging at his lips. harry wants to lick into his mouth until that stupid smile is gone.

“tomlinson,” he says instead.

it isn’t awkward. not really. harry keeps his gaze trained on his coffee while he stirs, and louis lingers at his side, eyes on the side of harry’s face.

“so i take it there’s no one missing at the moment?” louis tries, waiting for harry to respond.

harry makes himself look directly at louis when he responds, “not at the moment, no. i take it there’s no murders either?” harry feels his cheeks heat up, but he holds his gaze.

louis’ blue eyes glint and he’s clearing his throat and hiding a smile. “no,” he mutters.

harry doesn’t even know what to do with his hands anymore. he’s been stirring for way too long and he really wants to run his fingers through louis’ fluffy hair and leave purple marks down his neck.

“what’s this?” louis questions and then he is running his hand over harry’s abdomen and harry nearly throws his mug across the room and dies. at the same time. his eyes follow where louis is touching and he sees the brown coffee stain from this morning, dark and obvious on his light blue shirt. his face gets even hotter, if not from the contact, then from how mortified he feels.

“i-um. coffee. spilled,” he stutters, curls falling to hang over his eyes.

louis hums and lifts his gaze to study harry. he doesn’t brush the curls off of his face, but his fingers twitch like he wants to. harry can hear his own heart beating, can feel the blood rushing behind his ears.

“you know,” louis smiles, like he’s telling harry a secret, “i have an extra shirt in my desk.”

“oh yeah?”

“yeah.”

it’s a few seconds of them staring at each other before louis rolls his eyes dramatically and grabs harry’s wrist, pulling him out of the break room. they pass by niall, who winks suggestively, making obscene hand gestures. before harry can consider murder (which would be quite the experience considering louis would be the one arresting him), they make it to louis’ desk.

louis bends over to search through his drawers, arm stretched awkwardly behind him so he can keep his hand around harry’s wrist. harry wonders if louis can feel how fast his pulse is. he wonders if it’s even legal for someone’s arse to look as good as louis’ does.

louis pulls out a dark grey dress shirt, folded haphazardly and smelling of musky aftershave. “can’t trust you with any lighter colors, apparently,” he places it in harry’s hands and tilts his head to the side, smiling up at him.

“thank you,” harry holds the soft fabric closer to his chest, “i promise i won’t spill anything on it.”

louis laughs like he thinks harry’s joking, “i’ll hold you to that, harry.”

which is, of course, when liam interrupts.

“styles, i’ve got a new case for you. c’mon, get back to work.”

-

niall reads the case file aloud while harry drives them towards the local tesco. he can feel louis’ shirt stretching tight across his broad shoulders. niall hasn’t said anything about it yet, but harry can almost hear his smirk while he debriefs harry on the case.

aubree, a seventeen year old girl from just outside of london, was reported missing that afternoon. she had gone on a quick run to tesco to pick up some toilet paper and a present for her friend’s birthday party later that evening, a task that shouldn’t have taken more than half an hour. it was five hours later, following countless unanswered calls and texts from her family and friends, that her parents decided to contact the police. after driving around the city in search of her, her friends discovered her car sans aubree, not in the tesco parking lot, but in an office parking lot across the street. she had no seemingly obvious reasons to run away. no boyfriend, no family problems, not a rebellious bone in her body.

harry can feel his stomach begin to flutter, the way it does every time he gets a new case. he likes this one—likes the way nothing is adding up.

harry pulls up to the office building. people are bustling around, pacing and muttering. the sun has set, leaving the parking lot submerged in shadows. police radios hum, one after the other—the static and muffled voices filling the cool dark night. lights flash red and blue, cutting sharp angles into everything. the air feels cool—tastes salty and wet like rain. harry watches how everything is moving. a single car sits in the middle of the chaos, avoided and alone. red, then blue, then red lights reflect off the cold metal. no one touches it, but shadows dance across the surface, murky and looming. it’s eerie, harry thinks. it’s unsettling.

niall bounces out of the car and skips across the lot, as energetic as always. he finds zayn and gives him a friendly punch on the arm before harry even has a chance to shut off the engine.

zayn has been working forensics ever since harry can remember. he rarely helps on missing persons cases—never really needs to—but he is very familiar with the homicide team. as in, louis. meaning they chat and hang out and harry gets even more stressed when he sees the two of them together because _zayn and louis_. that’s like, all of harry’s teenage fantasies combined. in fact, it’s more than just his teenage fantasies. it’s every single fantasy. ever. it’s all very stressful.

harry strolls over to niall and zayn, keeping his eyes locked on the car, brows furrowed. he stops once he realizes he is standing in front of the two boys. he gives zayn a dimpled smile.

“so what have we got here?” harry blinks as someone snaps a blinding photo of the car’s windshield.

zayn runs a hand through his artfully messy hair. his eyelashes flutter, framing his dark eyes, which shine in the flashing lights. “the girl’s friends found her car here when they went out looking for her. keys in the ignition, her cell phone and purse inside the car. we got a partial fingerprint off the door handle, but nothing substantial,” he says, pursing his lips thoughtfully.

harry takes a long look at the car, “can you open the door for me?”

zayn nods, pulling on his rubber gloves with a snap. niall is already running off to interview the girl’s family and friends, notepad in hand and a comforting smile on his face. as painful as it may be, they need to be eliminated as suspects too. it’s routine. harry is so lucky to have a partner like niall. when he’s actually working, that is. harry waits as zayn pulls the drivers side door open.

harry takes one look at the interior of the car and he feels his stomach clench uncomfortably. he quickly steps past zayn and lowers himself onto the seat, placing his hands on the wheel. zayn’s face shifts into a expression of absolute horror and he looks about ready to have a heart attack.

“harry, you—this is a crime scene, for fucks sake. you can’t be in there.”

harry stretches his legs out and checks the mirrors.

zayn is just about to reprimand harry again, maybe even beat him up for destroying the fine art of forensic science, before harry interrupts him.

“how tall is aubree?”

zayn gapes without shame, his jaw bone looks sharp and angry in the flashing lights. harry notices that his fists are clenched at his sides. he decides not to worry about it right now.

“zayn, come on. how tall is the girl?”

it takes a few seconds for zayn to calm down. he pinches the bridge of his nose and glances around to make sure no one is paying them any attention. his voice is low and strained when he speaks, “how the _fuck_ am i supposed to know? you need to get out of the car now, harry. you’re _contaminating_ the fucking—“

“is she shorter than me?”

“oh my fucking—“

“zayn.”

harry sees the tips of zayn’s ears turn red. zayn closes his eyes, lashes fanning over his cheeks, casting dark shadows. “yes, harry, i’m sure she isn’t seven fucking hundred centimeters tall.”

ignoring the jab at his height, harry clambers out of the car. zayn still looks livid, so being the nice person he is, harry decides to cut him a break.

“i could drive that car right now, zayn. with the way the seat is adjusted, aubree wouldn’t even be able to reach the petals. someone else was driving in it. dust for prints on the seat lever.”

harry spins on his heel, leaving zayn speechless behind him. harry smiles victoriously and calls out over his shoulder, gesturing towards the back of the office building that towers next to them, “and check that fucking video camera over there. it’s filming the whole damn parking lot.”

-

harry is back at the precinct, starting his timeline of events when niall returns with the video footage from the parking lot, as well as security footage from tesco, where they will hopefully be able to spot aubree. harry hangs a recent picture of her on the white board behind his desk and then rushes off with niall to watch the video.

as harry walks he can feel louis’ shirt pull tight across his chest. every time harry almost forgets that he is wearing it, he manages to catch a whiff of the man or feel the fabric slide tightly over his skin and it hits him all over again. it’s been a very long day.

the room used to view any important videos or documents has a television screen the size of the entire wall and a huge table taking up the entirety of the room. it is long and dark and run by the technological intelligence team. niall calls them the _tits_ for short and they are liam payne’s favorites. not that chief payne would ever admit to having favorites, but _really_.

the tits, unsurprisingly, live up to their name. not that harry has much of an interest in breasts. or the anatomy of breasts. or the people attached to them, for that matter. but harry knows a tit when he sees one, and these snarky know-it-alls are most definitely what would be considered tits. it’s really a problem when harry has been complimenting his boss’ tie for the past three months and liam still ignores him in favor of running off to praise the tits. straight men are very confusing.

“speak of the devil,” harry mumbles as he walks into the room of tits. liam is sat comfortably in one of the squishy chairs, tie loosened and stress lines marking his face. he nods to harry and niall and then continues his conversation about some kind of voice recognition system with a lanky, pimply kid.

niall starts setting up the video while harry plays with his fingers anxiously. aubree could be anywhere. they only have a certain amount of time before it’ll be considered too late for her.

the screen flickers on, then shows a grainy image of the parking lot. it is empty, rain fogging up the camera lens slightly. harry chews his lip until it is red and raw. they sit, watching for two whole minutes with nothing happening. just as niall is about to fast forward the video, car headlights flash on the screen. even liam stares intently as aubree’s car is pulled into the parking lot. it’s far away—nearly out of view of the camera—but the car is parked and the headlights shut off quickly. harry holds his breath. a figure gets out of the car, shuts the door and runs off, too quick for harry to even process it. nothing else happens on the video and harry’s skin tingles uncomfortably.

“play it again,” he orders niall, who is already rewinding the video with a nervous look on his face.

the figure is definitely not aubree. it can’t be. the shoulders, the back, the very way the person walks is so obviously masculine.

“again,” he says to niall.

niall sets the video on a loop, and they watch the man leave the car over and over again. harry is aware of liam excusing himself from the room with a frown. the puzzle pieces itself together gradually in harry’s head. whether or not aubree made it to tesco, this man has something to do with her disappearance.

harry squints at him, too blurry and pixilated to make out anything but his general shape. harry notes his white shirt and rushed movements. he was leaving the car in the parking lot, presumably moving it from somewhere else.

“give me the tesco footage, please, niall.”

the screen is black for a moment and harry watches as the tits bustle around, intrigued by the case. the many different camera views from throughout the store are projected onto the screen. niall adjusts the time on the video to when aubree should have first arrived at the store. there is silence as they watch, until a small quiet boy sitting in the back of the room points out her car first pulling into the lot.

harry runs through the timeline in his head. aubree parks her car across the parking lot from the camera and gets out. she made it to the store. the camera catches her walking in, looking normal and calm. the entire shopping trip was caught on camera. they follow her through the cameras as she shops, everyone’s eyes intently looking for anything out of the ordinary. after ten minutes, she successfully checks out and leaves the store. she doesn’t talk to anyone or leave the store with anyone. harry grips the edge of the table hard.

if they don’t find any clue to where aubree went, they will be back to square one. which is not a place harry wants to be. niall maximizes the video in the parking lot to watch her leave. she walks to her car, almost out of view of the camera, waits a few seconds, and pulls out.

the door to the room opens suddenly and liam and louis walk in. harry feels his chest grow tight. there is only one reason louis would be here. he turns back to the screen, determined to get something—anything—from this video. harry’s voice is serious as he tells niall to go back to when she was leaving.

“right here,” he says, watching the video play as aubree is walking towards her car, bags swinging in her hands. harry feels his gut twist. she turns to enter her car, opens her door, and harry sees a flash of white, barely there.

“did you see that? play it again,” harry orders. everyone in the room leans forward, sitting on the edge of their chairs. harry thinks he can feel louis looking at him.

niall plays it in slow motion and gasps are suddenly heard throughout the room. harry watches as a figure darts behind aubree on screen, quick as can be, grabbing her and then seemingly disappearing inside the backseat of the car. the person is much taller than her, moving hastily and effortlessly. the car pulls out and niall starts the video again. harry sees the person so much clearer now. he sees him get into aubree’s car without any hesitation, probably threatening her with a knife or a gun, and harry can feel it. he can feel it in the silence of the room and the wide eyes surrounding him. aubree was kidnapped. in broad daylight, she was taken. and now they are running out of time.

he takes a second to breathe, pulling at his hair and thinking this through. he needs to _do_ something. he needs to do something right _now_.

everybody in the room is holding their breath. harry stands and eyes turn to look at him.

“niall, look through the store footage again for that man. white shirt. tall. had to have been following her around somewhere. i’ve got to tell the family.”

harry hates this part. he absolutely dreads seeing the pain in their eyes. but he’d rather suffer than make niall talk to the hysterical family again. he takes a step towards the door before liam interrupts him.

“styles,” he calls, “detective tomlinson is here to help you out if you need anything.”

harry freezes. he turns towards louis and his gaze falls to the man’s homicide detective badge, avoiding his wide blue eyes. harry feels his blood pumping furiously. he has never felt so brave, never felt so in his element before. when he speaks, the words slide through his lips like poison. they are spoken slowly and sharply, making his teeth clench behind them.

“she’s not dead yet,” harry growls, before briskly leaving the room and slamming the door behind him.

-

harry is sitting at his desk with his face buried in his hands when louis finds him.

it’s not that harry is actually mad at liam or louis, it’s just that  he is so so tired and he has lost all sense of time and he just spent half an hour trying to comfort a distressed family who’s daughter was kidnapped. he’s a bit stressed, is all.

“you alright?” louis asks gently, placing a hand on harry’s shoulder. harry uncovers his face and nods, not looking away from the papers spread across his desk. he feels louis shift, trying to get harry to look up at him. harry just yawns.

“you know liam didn’t mean…he wasn’t saying what you thought he was saying. not at all,” louis tries again. harry hums warily and keeps his eyes cast down, uses a hair tie to pull his tangled curls back into a small bun.

harry has a list of things that need to get done and this conversation is not on it. not that harry doesn’t appreciate louis’ presence, but he’d probably get a lot more work done without louis there. obviously louis doesn’t understand this because then he is sighing under his breath and turning harry’s chair until it is facing him, bending down until he is hovering directly in front of harry. their eyes lock and harry feels his heart beat a little harder.

“that shirt looks good on you,” louis smirks, breath ghosting over harry’s face. harry feels his cheeks go red and he almost wants to curl up in a ball and hide in embarrassment because he probably actually looks like shit. he has been awake for far too long and the precinct is clearing out with people going home for the day but harry is still here—looking like shit with a far too cute boy smiling at him.

louis laughs, as if he knows exactly what harry is thinking, and he looks like the sun. harry is so engrossed in louis’ face that he almost doesn’t notice that he is being pulled out of his chair until he is looking down at louis rather than up at him.

“also, niall’s got something for you,” louis gives him a wink before strutting away, hips swaying madly.

harry doesn’t stare. really, he doesn’t.

-

niall shows harry the video from the store again, pointing out a man in a white shirt who seems to follow aubree down nearly every aisle, always keeping her in his line of sight. it’s creepy and it’s unnerving and it’s exactly what they were looking for.

apparently niall sent louis to get liam too because then liam is there, asking for a clear shot of his face to send out to the media. louis lingers, exchanging a few words with one single remaining tit in the room, eyes not straying from harry. then liam is talking unbelievably fast on the phone and the picture of the man is spread to every news source in the city. harry should feel accomplished.

“feel free to go home. get some sleep,” liam says, patting harry on the back before walking out of the room. niall just about leaps out of his chair towards the door, waving goodbye with a sleepy smile. then the room goes quiet and harry realizes that everyone else has also left, except for him and louis.

harry sits down at the table, staring at the frozen picture of their suspect that is still paused on the screen. he expects louis to say his goodbyes too. expects him to leave harry with nothing but the silence and this picture on the screen.

“you’re not leaving, are you?” louis asks gently. harry doesn’t even have to respond before louis is nodding like he understands.

“i’m gonna get us some take out,” louis says, walking towards the door, “i’ll be back. i promise.”

he leaves harry with one final reassuring look and then he is gone.

-

harry has moved in front of a computer by the time louis returns. he is scanning the videos again, anxious to speed up the case in any way he can. louis seems to have raided a vending machine. he carries in bags full of crisps and candy bars and some questionable microwavable burritos. it doesn’t exactly look like the take out that harry had been promised but it’s sweet and harry is too tired to eat anyways.

“apparently no take out places are open at half past midnight on a wednesday,” louis declares wisely. harry feels a smile stretch across his face, though he doesn’t take his eyes away from the computer screen.

the only sound heard for a while is harry clicking on the computer and louis trying to discreetly open a candy bar wrapper. harry watches louis wince in the corner of his eye when he thinks he’s been too loud. it’s like he doesn’t want to disturb harry but he doesn’t want to leave him either. he stops midway and seems to rethink everything.

“i should make tea, would you like some tea?”

harry’s clicking stops abruptly as he looks up at louis blankly.

“i’ll make you tea,” louis nods decidedly.

he leaves the room, sneaking out his candy bar when he thinks harry isn’t looking. harry wants to pin him against the wall and kiss him silly.

harry’s eyes feel heavy and he thinks that tea is a good idea. he wishes he could sleep, but he physically would never be able to. he needs to keep searching until he finds something that they missed. he can’t wait for someone watching the news to call in, claiming to know who the man is. even figuring out how the guy got to tesco—whether he has a car, walked, was dropped off—could be very helpful. though harry feels awful about dragging louis into this. by the time louis returns, harry is still trying to come up with a polite way to tell louis to go home.

“thank you,” harry says softly, grabbing the tea offered to him and smiling against the rim of the mug when he tries to take a sip. louis takes a seat across from harry sipping at his own tea and not looking away from harry.

“i—i’m sorry i snapped earlier,” harry frowns at the table, “i’ve been a bit stressed, is all, and you didn’t deserve that. not one bit. i’m re—“

“ _harry_ ,” louis says, sounding exasperated. he rolls his eyes and hides a smile between his lips, “trust me, love, i get it. unnecessary apology, but you are forgiven.”

harry nods, glancing up at the man. his cheeks grow a little hot. the silence stretches on as they sip their tea. after a while harry breaks it:

“louis,” harry blushes without shame, “maybe you should get some sleep. you don’t have to stay with me.”

louis looks offended, eyes opened wide in mock horror. “oh, harold, that’s where you’re wrong. i’ve come to help.”

harry goes for stern next, “go get some sleep, tomlinson.”

then louis is rolling his eyes (which seems to be a tomlinson trademark) and pushing his unfinished tea towards harry. he stands up from the table with a mischievous grin. rather than walking towards the door, like harry expects him to, louis makes his way towards the end of the long room, where there is a few chairs and a couch set up.

“if you wanted to watch me sleep, you should’ve just asked,” louis teases. harry almost feels like he should be denying that, but. he’s a shit liar anyways.

louis jumps playfully onto the couch and curls up like some kind of baby animal. he pillows his head in his hands and smiles. harry wouldn’t mind joining him. then louis closes his eyes and any tension in his shoulders seems to melt away, “wake me up if you find anything.”

harry may or may not spend the next five minutes staring at louis’ tiny figure. but, if anything, he’s professional, and manages to pull his eyes away after only a few fond smiles and longing sighs.

-

“louis. wake up, louis.”

“ngh.”

“jesus—tomlinson, wake the fuck up.”

“hmm?”

“the guy—he owns a gold convertible. he drove to the store in it and then went back for it after dropping aubree’s car off at the office building. it was caught on camera.”

“a fuckin’ gold convertible?”

“yeah. and there’s only two people in all of doncaster who own a registered gold convertible.”

“yeah?”

“yeah. one of them is a sixty year old woman.”

“and the other one?”

“the other one is our guy.”

“fuck yeah.”

-

harry waits for liam to come back to the precinct all night. or morning, really.

after waking up louis, harry can’t really stand the idea of letting him go back to sleep. so louis makes countless cups of tea and they watch the sun rise through the tinted windows, eating candy bars and telling stupid jokes.

louis doesn’t seem to mind. if anything, he’s more smiley than ever. harry’s entire body feels heavy with fatigue, but he’s content in a way that he hasn’t been in so long.

when liam finally arrives back at the precinct early in the morning, harry sits him down and quickly explains how he found out who their suspect is. he shows liam the video of the convertible, and pulls up the registration documents for the car belonging to a man by the name of brandon.

liam looks unbelievably proud as he tells harry and louis to go talk to this brandon guy. the two of them gladly leave the precinct. people are finally arriving, making the air feel suffocating.

the brief sunlight they had that morning seems to have disappeared behind a blanket of grey clouds. it makes harry even more sleepy and gives him a bad feeling in his stomach.

they take louis’ car, which is black and sleek and a whole lot cooler than the standard flashy police car harry had been given. it’s a short drive to brandon’s house, and harry feels his breathing speed up. he’s not sure if it’s from nerves or excitement, but either way louis notices and places a comforting hand on harry’s knee. his hand is dwarfed by harry’s long legs and harry has never wanted to completely envelope and protect someone more than he does now.

brandon’s house is small and rustic. the gold car looks out of place in the driveway and harry wonders why anyone would ever buy such a thing. louis parks on the street in front of the house and they watch as a man comes out, carrying suitcases and boxes to the car. louis smiles like an animal who’s finally captured his prey, all fierce and dangerous. he gives harry a look, eyes wild and determined, and steps out of the car. harry follows, entranced by louis’ purposeful persona.

“nice car, mate. real inconspicuous,” louis glides smoothly up the driveway, thoroughly startling the man into dropping one of his suitcases. louis smirks, eyes snake-like, body coiled and ready to pounce. harry finds it amazing that louis can turn on his _don’t-fuck-with-me_ predator face just like that. comforting to dangerous in three seconds flat.

“good morning, sir. do you happen to be brandon, by any chance?” harry tries to give him a smile, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. if louis is gonna be the bad cop, harry should take up his usual role of good cop. nothing new here. the man nods, uncertainly.

“are you going somewhere?” louis snaps, eyeing the boxes already stacked in the back of the car. brandon looks like he’s about ready to shit his pants, but louis continues, “you better not be fleeing, because that would just make your jail time _so_ much worse.”

brandon makes a whiney noise in the back of his throat and tries his best to look confused. harry isn’t buying it, but there’s no way he’s not gonna use this position to his advantage. he steps between louis and brandon, successfully cutting off louis’ glare. harry tries for his most sympathetic face, speaking as calmly as he can manage, “do you happen to know a girl by the name of aubree? it’s okay if you don’t, it’s just that we need some help finding her and we think you might have some information.”

brandon doesn’t seem to budge. harry presses a bit harder, lying through his teeth, “look, you seem like a nice guy. we don’t want any trouble or anything. would you mind coming down to the station with us? we have some questions and it shouldn’t take too long. it would be greatly appreciated.”

harry gives him the best puppy dog eyes he can manage and sees brandon’s resolve crumble. he nods, glancing quickly at louis, so obviously hiding something. harry pretends not to notice, clenching his jaw to keep from saying something too mean. louis looks up at him in wonder, catching on to harry’s act and playing along. he looks impressed. it takes everything in harry not to gush about what a great team they make right then and there.

-

they bring brandon to an interrogation room and let him squirm under louis’ gaze for a bit. harry admires the way louis can look intimidating, even with fluffy hair and sleepy eyes.

growing tired of the tense silence, harry slides a picture of aubree across the table. brandon seems to refrain from flinching, face growing stony. he’s such a bad liar.

“do you remember where you were yesterday between three and seven pm?” harry asks, clenching his fists under the table when he sees the man gulp. this guy is such trash—thinking he has the right to hurt another human being. thinking he is above the law.

suddenly louis’ hand is covering one of his own. it’s gentle, thumb rubbing the soft skin. harry feels his muscles relax. his fist unclenches and louis doesn’t pull away. he interlocks their fingers, squeezing harry’s hand slightly. brandon is bumbling off some awful excuse for where he was yesterday but harry doesn’t even hear him. his shoulders slump in exhaustion.

louis has schooled his features back into his bad cop look, and he somehow manages to keep his hand gentle in harry’s while also glaring daggers across the table. it’s charming. harry watches louis lick his lips like a wild animal—always ruthless, always hungry. the dim lighting in the room makes his hair look darker than it’s usual soft brown. harry wants to stick his nose in it.

but then louis is speaking, so maybe later.

“look. we have video evidence of you following this girl around tesco before forcing your way into her car with her and driving away.” which, might not be completely true. they can’t exactly see that it’s brandon who forces his way into the car, but. details, details.

brandon’s entire demeanor seems to shift. his defensive attitude is replaced with a hopeless one. about time, really. harry squeezes louis’ hand in celebration. louis squeezes back, even harder.

“alright, yeah,” brandon sighs, knowing a losing battle when he sees one, “i—um made her drive us to the woods. you know, the ones with the big lake. we walked a bit. it was getting dark, and i had a knife with me.”

harry’s eyes fall to the table, frowning. he knew that there was a chance that aubree wouldn’t be alive, but he had hoped, just this once, maybe she would be. being someone who always sees the best in people and goes out of his way to make others feel comfortable, harry thinks he might be working in the wrong field. he listens to brandon retell the story, being vague but still more detailed than harry wants or needs to hear. it’s when the story’s over, when the room goes silent and still, that harry speaks up.

“why?” he asks, genuinely puzzled, “why did you do it?”

brandon opens his mouth, milliseconds from giving harry an answer, when there is a knock at the door. liam peeks his head in, apologetic as always.

“sorry to interrupt. they uh… they found her, harry.”

harry gives himself a second to breathe, then removes his hand from louis’ and calmly leaves the room. he doesn’t want to look back and see the sorrow that’s probably on louis’ face. liam pulls him to the end of the hallway, face looking anxious.

“she’s not, _god_. she’s not alive. a jogger found her body in the woods this morning. we got our confession, though. so you’re free to go home, if you want.”

harry shakes his head slowly, eyes heavy on liam’s face. “i think—i think i’ll just go,” he says, voice rough and sleepy. he turns and trudges down the hallway, feet dragging on the floor. for a moment, he thinks of louis and how maybe he should say goodbye or something.

he keeps walking, ignoring liam’s pitiful “i’m so sorry, harry.”

-

harry really has no idea how he ended up here.

he was set on driving home, but somehow missed his turn and is now standing at the edge of some woods, police tape and flashing lights bright against the murky sky.

harry flashes his badge to an officer on guard and steps into the shadowy forest. he breaks into a clearing, filled with people taking pictures and people taking notes. he sees zayn and he sees a woman crying. then he sees the body.

aubree is all milky white skin and athletic looking limbs. it makes harry sick, makes him stumble backwards until he is leaning against a tree. louis’ shirt rubs against the bark, rubs against the dirt and moss. harry wonders if louis will ever let him borrow his clothes again, after today.

thunder rumbles in the distance, rain beginning to fall and hitting the leaves of the trees all around him. it sounds sad. it sounds like music.

another figure enters the clearing. harry doesn’t need to look up to see who it is. he spots the tiny feet and he _knows_.

“how did you know i was here?”

“i just knew,” louis shrugs. he has his sleeves rolled up, showing off his delicate wrists.

harry feels a small smile tug at his lips, if only for a second. he keeps his eyes on the body on the ground, tries not to sound pathetic when he speaks.

“i couldn’t save her.”

louis shakes his head, not giving harry any room for self pity. “you tried,” he says firmly.

“i couldn’t do it.”

harry looks down at their shoes—spattered with mud and leaves. “i couldn’t do my job,” he sighs.

“hey,” louis says sternly, fingers tilting harry’s head up to meet his gaze, “we got the killer. he’ll go to prison for life. you did your job just fine.”

harry clenches his jaw. “no, louis. _you_ did your job fine. _my_ job was to save her. and now she’s gone.” he doesn’t mean to sound rude. he’s been awake for two days straight, is the thing.

louis plays with a curl that came loose from harry’s bun, twirling it around his finger. his blue blue eyes lock with harry’s.

“you are not at fault for every horrible thing that happens in this world,” louis whispers, rain splattering onto his shirt. his hair is wet, losing it’s shape and falling into his face. harry wants to run his fingers through it. harry wants to kiss him. every cell in his sleep-muddled brain is screaming for him to lean in and give louis a kiss.

but then louis is reaching his hand into harry’s pocket, startling him for a second. he pulls out harry’s car keys and gives him a smile, stepping away to quickly explain something to zayn. harry waits—a little confused, mostly tired.

louis returns, taking harry’s hand and pulling him away from the tree.

“zayn can take your car back. you’ll ride with me,” louis starts leading him out of the woods. the rain is falling harder now, cold and alarming on harry’s face, but not managing to wake him up any more. louis places a gentle arm around harry’s waist. “let’s go home,” he says gently.

harry isn’t sure who’s home he’s talking about, but he thinks it doesn’t matter much, as long as he’s with louis.

-

the drive home is incredibly silent. louis doesn’t turn the radio on and harry doesn’t complain. the rain makes a sound against the roof of the car that seems to draw harry closer and closer to sleep.

when the car finally comes to a stop, harry’s eyes are half closed. louis gets out to open the door for harry, and smiles softly when he sees the state harry’s in. he bends down, face only a few inches from harry.

“liam gave us tomorrow off work. would you come inside with me?”

harry glances at what must be louis’ flat, and hums in appreciation. louis’ fingers brush against the bags under harry’s eyes. harry can’t do anything except lean into the touch.

“you’re exhausted, love. c’mon,” louis says, helping harry out of the car and walking him into the building. they somehow make it to louis’ flat, and then louis is taking off harry’s shoes and trousers for him, and exchanging his shirt for a soft cotton one, still a little tight on his shoulders. harry is led into a bed that smells explicitly like louis. he is tucked in and panics, for a moment. his hand shoots out to grab louis’ wrist.

“don’t go,” he slurs, “don’t wanna be alone now.”

louis brushes his thumb over harry’s cheek and nods. he changes quickly, until he looks soft and cuddly, before crawling under the covers with harry. their legs tangle, and louis positions himself so harry’s head is resting heavy on his chest.

“stay,” harry mumbles.

“i always will,” louis whispers, fingers working harry’s bun loose. his curls fall around his head messily.

“kiss me,” harry says, barely audible and eyes fully closed now.

louis giggles and tilts harry’s face up towards his own. he places a tender kiss to the corner of harry’s mouth. harry sighs into it, tension leaving his body and smile lighting up his face.

“sleep,” louis orders fondly. harry thinks that sounds like a great idea.

-

harry wakes up way too early the next morning to louis grumbling.

“fuckin’ curly hair…” he says lowly. harry means to ask what the fuck he’s talking about but it sounds more like a groan.

“your hair was suffocating me. it’s beautiful, love, but please let me braid it,” louis begs, fingers already running through the tangles. harry hums in agreement, turning so he is facing away from louis and his hair is easier to reach.

“how are you feeling?” louis asks quietly, hands twisting harry’s hair into a braid, being as gentle as he can.

“better, i think,” harry sighs. the slight tugging on his scalp feels amazing—almost lulling him back to sleep.

“good,” louis grins—his hand reaching out, silently prompting harry to give him a hair tie. it’s after louis has finished off the braid and plastered himself to harry’s back that the silence is broken.

“you know i always thought this job would be good for me,” harry admits, “i always wanted to help people. and it’s great, it really is. when we actually solve the case, that is. it’s days like yesterday that i rethink everything, trying to find where i went wrong.”

harry feels louis shaking his head before he hears his opposition. “no, harry, it’s not your fault. there’s nothing you could’ve done.”

“i know,” harry says, feeling louis’ arms tighten around his waist, “s’just sad. i wonder who had to tell her family. fuck, i didn’t even think of that before. what was i _thinking—_ “

“actually, harry, i was the one who told the family.”

harry freezes. he turns around to face louis, eyes wide and unbelieving.

“i just didn’t want you to have to worry about it and i—“

harry presses a finger to louis’ lips, cutting off his words. their eyes lock—green and blue and soft white sheets around them.

“thank you,” harry whispers, “so so much.”

louis absolutely beams, eyes crinkled and smile smushed against harry’s finger. _soft soft soft,_ is all harry can think.

“ _god_ , just go on a fucking date with me already,” harry mutters, unsure if the words were supposed to come out, but. now that they’re out there, what can he do.

louis laughs, surprised, “’bout time you asked, styles. i’ve fancied you for about nine months now.”

and harry— _shit—_ harry feels so light and weightless. he leans in without thinking, liking how the thinking doesn’t seem to be necessary in the first place. louis meets him halfway, and they kiss until they are both laughing—all teeth and soft skin and rumbling chests.

harry isn’t sure about a lot of things—each day at work brings new surprises and adventures. he has the most irregular sleep schedule ever, and he doesn’t know what’s going to happen in the future or where he’s going to go from here. but one thing he is sure of, is that even the worst days would shine a little brighter with louis by his side.

**Author's Note:**

> i loooove feedback xx


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